Missing Letter
by Ember Nickel
Summary: "There weren't ever beginnings, were there?" Lipogram on A.


"There weren't ever beginnings, were there?"

"Do you think I'd remember? If you didn't?"

"Going out of turn, one-nil."

"I thought you were being serious."

"Good."

"Oh. Well...I don't think I would remember the beginning, if you don't."

"I don't."

"Me neither."

"Just checking."

"Right."

* * *

"These were your coins, right?"

"Right."

"You didn't decide to pick up mine, did you?"

"No. Why would I do something so silly?"

"Then you'd get those eighty-some coins I won before. But you lost them. So you shouldn't get them, now."

"Right."

"Just checking."

* * *

"So the troupe just goes from city to city, putting on shows?"

"I think so. I suppose they perform music, too."

"I wish they'd stick to the music."

"Well, they've left now. It's not like we'll see them more."

"The show they were performing is weird, though."

"You're just creeped out by the...child."

"No, it's just...I didn't think they were so numerous they included...oh, never mind."

"I tend not to."

* * *

"I think we ought to trust him on this issue. He _is_ the king."

"Oh, he's the king, is he?"

"Yes, he is."

"Good for him, then. Lucky fellow. His christening didn't suffice, he's got some title too? I suppose if he forgets who _he_ is, people tell him he's the king."

"Well, his title is nice, but it's not everything. There were other kings, before."

"Of course. Kingship didn't _begin_ with this king."

"No. There weren't...beginnings, like such."

"But still. The queen's been queen for longer. She should know better."

"The prince might know."

"We were brought up with him, weren't we?"

"They told us so."

"From childhood."

"Yes."

"I suppose we should inquire of him."

"I suppose."

"It's something to do."

* * *

"How come nobody's here?"

"We're here."

"But nobody else is."

"We're still not nobody."

"How come nobody's _there_?"

"Oh, _there_? It's intermission."

"Oh. When did intermission begin?"

"I'm not sure it did. Possibly, something else ended, though."

"Oh. Do intermissions end?"

"In time."

"Well, of course they'd end in time, nothing ends _out_ of time now does it?"

"Of course not. If it's out of time, it's not _now_."

"Oh."

* * *

"Do you think he knows which of us is which?"

"Do you think he remembers us?"

"He remembers _us_, I think. But I don't think he remembers..._you_, by yourself. Or _me_."

"We weren't by ourselves before, were we?"

"I don't remember."

"But how could you remember not me, if you didn't know me?"

"I would know if something felt wrong, something felt missing."

"You've felt such emotion before?"

"No, it's just I've never felt like everything's correct."

* * *

"Look! We're on this ship!"

"I don't see it, there's no light out."

"Trust me, we're on this ship."

"Cool."

"If you're on the shore, you're sure not me."

"Of course not! I'm not you here, either."

"We're not _both_ Guildensterns, nothing so weird."

* * *

"So we'll get off the ship, hike for some time, find the king, tell him we've—"

"How do we tell him things?"

"With our mouths."

"In English?"

"Yes. He's the English king."

"But we don't _know_ English, do we?"

"...Everything is difficult with you."

"Is the letter in English?"

"Which letter?"

"Didn't the king give you the letter?"

"No, we didn't meet him yet."

"No, our king."

"Huh?"

"Did our king give you the letter?"

"No."

"Oh. Good. It's in my pocket, you see, only I don't remember you giving it to me."

"Good."

"We were going to open it, weren't we?"

"Yes."

"Let's see...yes, it _looks_ like English."

"So you've seen English, then, you know how it looks?"

"Um. No."

* * *

"So, we show this letter to the king, then—"

"Which letter?"

"This one."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose we should find out how it goes."

"Something like "so our bonds might flourish, etc., we note..." Hmm. This is weird."

"How so?"

"This letter, it doesn't...seem right. It doesn't seem like it did before."

"Do you think somebody switched the letters?"

"No. Nobody would do something so ridiculous."

"Just keep it close to you. Don't lose it. We need to give _something_ to the king."

"Sounds good. If letters don't go missing, we're fine."

* * *

"I _killed_ him."

"It looks like you didn't."

"Looks like? _Looks_ like? There's no proof, then? No truth? We only go on how things _look_?"

"No, there's more. The sun's going down, it won't be light too much longer. Then we shouldn't rely on looks."

"If only looks count, then every line—or lie—from every one of these performers is truth. Or could be."

"So we'll rely on other things?"

"No, we just won't rely."

* * *

"Is this it?"

"How could it be?"

"Could this be something else?"

"To which thing do you refer?"

"Would you give me different responses if I were to give you different ones?"

"To which question?"

"Mine."

"One-nil."

"Shut up."

""

* * *

"You're still here?"

"Yes. You?"

"Yes. But I'm not sure which is me."

"It never counted."

"Don't go."

"I'm sorry."

* * *

Then:

not just love, not just truth, not just finding out why (though this, too)

but, too, memory of

"Me?"

Yes.

"I...I know, now, who I'd been. But this suggests I'd questioned, once. I'd questioned, since...

_You!_"

"Yes! You, too?"

"Yes!"

They were right in this; eternity doesn't end, nor did it begin. But it is good.


End file.
